I Am Not My Skin [ UNDER EDITING ]

Chapter 2:

"Jamal! Bring back my baby." I hear as Mrs. Brown cry from her house. I ran towards the front door and was immediately shocked to see how they left her things. Her things were broken and everything was a mess, how could they? They have destroyed her entire house, and left it as though no one had even lived there. How did it ever come to this?

"Mrs. Brown?" I called.

"Drew, help me baby girl. I'm in my room." I followed the sound of her voice. It wasn't necessary because I knew where her room was. I burst into tears when I found Mrs. Brown laying on the floor, how long as she been on the cold concrete? And what happened? Did she fall out of bed to stop those policemen or.. No, no, no. Dear Lord no!

"Help me Drew," she cried. I gently swung her arm around my neck to help her stood from the floor. Her body felt cold to the touch and I knew she must've been laying there for at least 5 or 7 minutes. "They took my baby. They took Jamal. Drew, you have to help me get my baby out of that place. He won't survive in there. He is innocent." I sat her on the bed and helped her under the covers, making sure she was nicely tucked in and that she felt comfortable. I turned on the kettle and searched through her cupboards for some sugar and a tea bag and as I waited for the water to boil, and going back into Mrs. Brown's bedroom.

She was crying.

"What happened Mrs. Brown? Why were you laying on the floor?"

With tears running down her face, she began. "Those policeman came barging in here and took my Jamal away from me. They said he robbed some bank and raped a young lady. My Jamal would never do that and you know he was here the whole week, you saw him. I tried to stop them but then the policeman dragged me out of bed and I pleaded with them but they laughed and spat at me. Drew my baby is innocent, you know he'd never do such a thing. I don't care how they treat me, I'm used to it because around here black folks don't have a voice. We have been silenced for as long as we can remember. Now you Drew, you have a gift and cannot hide it. They hit us with their weapons and we retaliate with our words. Do you see it?"

I couldn't believe my ears. Why would anyone want to treat Mrs. Brown so poorly? She was a nice old lady, her only sin was to try and help her grandson. How dare they do that to her? How dare they spit at her? She wasn't a dog. She was a human being filled with light, filled with loved and warmth.

"I promise Mrs. Brown that I will get Jamal out of there, and I can promise you this too right now, I won't let this go unpunished even if I'm the one ending up in jail. They will pay for what they have done to both you and Jamal, Mrs. Brown."

I've had enough. No more, no more innocent people dying at the hands of policemen and what they have done to Mrs. Brown was the last and final straw.

* *

I sat in the cafeteria of the hospital and the only thing that was weighing heavy on my mind was Jamal, and who will take care of Mrs. Brown when he is not around. I asked my mother to do so just for today and maybe tomorrow I will ask one of the neighbours, and pay them if I have to. My mother couldn't do it everyday because she had work, too.

The hospital was busy as always. There were wounded people coming through almost every second. But still, Jamal. He must feel so alone and scared in those cells right now.

I just couldn't sit there and do nothing. I took a gamble and sneaked out. My shift had already started and I was nowhere to be found. My phone was ringing non-stop. This was my first time being anywhere near a prison and much less being in an actual one. From what I've seen on most tv shows was that it was scary. I was always taught that only bad people are put behind bars and Jamal wasn't one of those people.

"Hey, I came to see a person by the name of Jamal Brown, he was brought in earlier this morning." I looked around and saw nothing but men in uniform, the supposed ones who are to keep us safe and protect us from all harm. Where are the morals of these people? How did we ever end up here to just arrest anyone and everyone based on hearsay? Or was it his skin color that made them think he was a criminal? Is it the stereotype that black men sell crack on every corner and that they walk around with guns so we have to shoot first and protect ourselves?

"Does it look like I know a thing miss I-am-a-fancy-nurse?" The officer mocked, and scoffed me off.

"Don't talk to her like that," another policeman came from the back. He was tall and if I may add, very handsome. He had those typical green eyes, and spoke in such a soft and gentle tone unlike what I've heard from any of them all day now. He turned to me and asked. "Who did you say you wanted to see again, miss?"

"Jamal Brown. He was brought in this morning and like some people," I turn to the one behind the protective glass. Yes, that was cute, as if I'd jump over and strangle the life out of him. "He is my friend and I am very worried about him officer, can I please see him?"

He nods. "Alright, follow me miss," I don't know if it was the uniform that made him more attractive or if it was those dimples whenever he'd smile. Lord, I sound even worse than Maya right now.

"Jamal," I couldn't believe my eyes, they left him for dead and the officer I was with was as shocked as I was. Jamal was left alone in a cell to die, bloodied and bruised. "We need to help him now or else he'll die out here. Jamal, can you hear me? It's me, Drew."

"Dre-Drew," he was shaking and curled up, holding his knees tightly to his chest for some warmth. His eyes were closing slowly and so was his voice glading. "My mama, promise...promise me you will take care of her Drew. Take care of her please." He said softly with defeated tears rolling down his face, then suddenly silence followed. His eyes close slowly.

"Jamal? No, no, you can't die now. Hang on baby, hang on, we will get you out of here, remember? I promised you that. I also promised your grandmother, just hold on. Don't let - never let go." I felt so helpless not being able to do anything for him, but to just hold him tightly in my arms and telling him that everything will be alright.

Mrs. Brown was all I could think of and how she might react. Her poor heart will break in two if she knew how badly her baby had been treated. I couldn't get it over my heart to tell her, no not now. And so, I made the decision right there to stay quiet for now, at least until we fully know what Jamal's condition was like.

How did this become normal even? Another fallen soldier.